


Skin tight

by Myu



Category: Corto Maltese (Comics)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28385235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myu/pseuds/Myu
Summary: It was simple curiosity at first... An idea.. a what if...And Corto did not think it would end up like that.It was better than he ever imagined
Relationships: Corto Maltese/Rasputin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Skin tight

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this beautiful [art](https://twitter.com/raspaindulgence/status/1336261031685976066?s=09) of Rasputin
> 
> Also... My first time ever writing porn.

At the beginning, it was just a thought, and a curiosity. A “what would happen if…”. He didn’t expect the results. And how beautiful they were. 

Deep red against stark white. Sweat gathering over muscles trying to get free.

Pale skin turning red, and a flush coming up, and a face scrunching up in frustration and pleasure.

It was just a curiosity, a dare, a simple “do you think you could…”, and what a sight it ended up being. Rasputin has been unable to make a coherent sentence in a while, when the ropes came to wrap around his tights. And Corto can only watch, now that his job is done, now that the rope has been artfully tied around his friend. The russian’s hands clench and unclench uselessly. His body trying to get enough friction for his problem, but never finding enough support for that.

Corto’s smirking, Ras protests died down a while ago, and now… the angular body can only quiver in the position he’s stuck in. Slowly, one hand come to rest in the dark hair, raise the head a little, and watch as just that movement is enough for the leaking cock to touch the sheets. The Russian jolts and lets out a groan at the touch. 

“Hey Ras, you’re drooling.”

An incoherent reply can be heard, maybe a “fuck you” said? But Corto is too busy making the pale skin goes red under the rope, and sometimes a pinch of his fingers. Red suits Ras in a strange way. Slowly, his gaze fall on more white skin calling to him, to touch, and pinch, and mess up. He lets himself be swayed by the call of this pale flesh. 

“Corto!” The surprised shoot is followed by a moan as the hands touching his ass began to massage it, and the friction make his cock grind against fabric. 

Corto is smiling more frankly, he likes his Russian like this, at his mercy. He can’t help dipping a finger in the cleft, going a bit deeper when the brunet is just making incoherent noise. He’s searching for the bottle left on the side with another hand, not really looking until he bumps against glass. Without hesitation, he opens it, and pour most of it on the skin, drawing a screech out of the Russian, swearing against the cold. 

“Bastard!”

“yep, your bastard” it’s said smugly, while fingers begin to move a little, and the Russian goes back to incoherent mutters.

The room goes silent, only disturbed by the squelching sounds, and the answering moans. One finger ends up being three. Too much, until it’s too little, not enough, never enough. And Rasputin begin to curse anew, frustration in his voice, and he’s trying his best to hump the bed in time with the movements of the fingers. 

But Corto stops him, gets his fingers out, and just… stare. Look again at the picture Ras is painting, quivering in pleasure and frustration, wrapped in red rope, muscles bunching, and ass clenching around nothing. He’d like to take his time, take apart the Russian, and make him scream, but really, he didn’t expect the sight to be so arousing. He can’t really wait.

Slowly, he set Ras in position, a pillow in place, legs apart and arms still tied up. Slowly, he takes his place, his own cock brushing against skin and lube. Ras tries to raise his head, but he can only bite the pillow, when Corto begin to breach him, slowly, and then in one thrust. 

They moan around the sensations. Ras can’t think, after the feelings of simple fingers, it’s too much, and yet too little. He does not know what to feel, what to think, he can only moan and clench around the grith penetrating him. 

Unfortunately, Corto’s not ready for the feel of Ras clenching, and just, press down a little more, before trying to get himself under control, eliciting another moan from the russian. Even with the preparation, it’s tight, hot and heady. Slowly, he presses his nose and mouth to the nape in front of him, tasting sweat, and smelling all that is Ras. He’s not ready to move, not yet, but he likes what he can feel, Ras clenching around him, and the hands touching his stomach trying to find purchase. He likes to see from the corner of his eye Ras drooling on the pillow, unable to control his face. Always so slowly, he rises up, take a breath, and give a twitch, just to see how Ras react. Oh, and how he reacts, arching a little, groaning once more…. Yeah, Ras is perfect like this, incoherent, and useless. 

But he wants to know how much better it can get. And so, he decides to move, slowly, letting Ras get used to his shape, his speed, and then speeding up a little just when the other does not expect it. Sometimes, he tries to hit differently. He knows he found something when Ras arches up in a scream, wordlessly, and shiver in the aftermath. 

After that, they move together, speeding up, and with Corto hitting Ras’prostate occasionally, always a surprise, sometime staying there, and rubbing a little, just to see how that goes for the Russian. And Ras is just lost in the sensations, he does not know what he feels, or how his body is positioned, he can only be swept up by the rise of pleasure, and each new, surprising shift of Corto. 

Corto gets lost too in the sensation, the feel of it. And they move together, faster and faster. A sound of frustration from the Russian, and Corto goes to touch Ras, but he only have to graze the tip for Ras to clench, shout and spend himself on the white sheet, taking Corto with him when he clenches around his shaft. 

It’s all too much for Rasputin, who just lies there, unable to do anything but breath, he can’t even open his eyes, too tired. He can only protest with a groan when he feels Corto pull out slowly, not really liking the new sensation of emptiness. He loses time after that. Realizing after a while that he’s now on his back, in Corto’s arms, without any ropes. He think he remembers Corto massaging his limbs slowly, to get the blood to flow a bit more, and get ride of the stiffness.

Slowly, he blinks up to Corto’s face. 

“Wha?” Yeah, he can’t be more coherent than that. 

“Shhh, let’s just take care of you for now. Come on Ras, drink a bit and then we’ll sleep.” The southing voice is just what he needs, and he lets himself be guided to a bottle, and then… well, he closes his eyes, and sleep. 


End file.
